Mr. President

His voice was thick with relief.

But the relieved expression on his handsome face changed instantly at my next words.

"I just have one request..."

For a moment, time stood still.

A dull look of disappointment came into his eyes and I could see what he was thinking—here it comes, the pay off line.

But the glare of disillusionment disappeared just as quickly when I dropped to my knees between his legs.

"One last time, Mr. President," I told him, my voice no more than a breathy whisper.

I met and held his gaze as I used my right hand to unbutton the top three buttons of his expensive shirt.

"I'd like one final memory."

He didn't comment and I knew why. If he spoke, he was giving tacit consent for me to continue. If he remained silent, then there wasn't any approval. But nor was he saying 'no'.

I slipped my hand inside his shirt and caressed the hairs on his chest before softly pinching a nipple. Another fuck was out of the question but I desperately wanted that Presidential cock in my mouth again.

The need inside my body was building for him.

I leaned back and flicked open each of the buttons on my green dress. I wanted him to see my tits again, wanted to again see that unadulterated expression of desire on his face—the one that I'd seen so many times in my mind's eye. When I arched my back so that my tits thrust out from my dress at him, my hard nipples proud and erect, the look on his face didn't disappoint me.

And it wasn't just his expression that revealed his feelings. The sight of my naked tits already had his manhood pushing hard against his pants.

Our gazes collided as I reached for his belt, slowly unbuckling it and then drawing down the zip of his pants. Please don't stop me, a voice was screaming in my head. Please. I so need this.

He didn't. He just sat there, his arms by his sides, neither helping nor hindering my progress until at last, at long last, I eased out the cock that I had begun to know so well—so thick, so black, so cute...

"One final memory," I repeated mainly to myself, as I dipped my head.

His thick girth throbbed as I slowly and enthusiastically took him between my grateful lips.

God, that felt so good.

I hadn't known what to expect from the meeting, except that the three month separation had given a clear indication he'd dismissed all thoughts of us being together again. And yet, my mouth on his Presidential cock seemed as inevitable as night followed day.

"Emma..." he grunted.

I felt his voice all the way down to my pussy. He'd said my name. A surge of electricity passed through me.

When his fingers went to my dark hair, I momentarily feared he was about to pull my head away. Instead, they simply held me there. His hands felt so wonderfully strong, so powerful on my head. My eyes travelled upwards to smile gratefully into his as I corkscrewed my right hand around the base of his shaft.

"This is going to be the best blowjob you've ever had, Mr. President," I promised, holding his gaze.

My words made his cock throb in my palm. His eyes narrowed. I hadn't lied, but this wasn't just a final memory for me. I wanted it to his memory, too, and one that he would never forget.

I summoned up every skill I'd ever learned as I sucked him. Every blow job I'd ever given had been a practice for this moment. For at least fifteen minutes I put on a sexual masterclass, taking him close time and time again as I alternated between sucking gently around the head, taking his Presidential balls in my mouth, licking up and down along both sides of his pulsating shaft, deep-throating him, and then sucking so hard that it felt I was going to draw out his very soul.

"Oh fuck ... oh fuck ... oh fuck..."

No, my ears weren't deceiving me. He was cursing. The President of the United States was cursing. And it was me who was making him curse, with my mouth. I so wished I could fuck him again, but that was out of the question. Besides, I was just about to receive my reward.

Three months of hidden passion were about to be released—passion that I now knew was for me. His fingers tightened in my hair as he tried to hold out but he didn't have a chance. Budget meeting or no budget meeting, I wasn't going to leave without his cum.

I took him deep into my mouth, almost my throat, as he erupted, sucking out more of the creamy Presidential seed that had already begun to change my life forever. I had him so aroused that it felt like he was going to spurt forever and I greedily devoured as much of the delicious cum as I could until it spilled from my lips.

When I was sure I had all he could offer, I let his eyes find mine again so that he could watch me as I slowly licked him clean.

It was a labour of love.

Pushing up to my feet, I took his head in my hands and gently held it against my tummy. His son was in there, after all.

It was such a shame he'd never know, but I'd already decided that I couldn't tell him. Maybe he understood the subtle reference I had just given him, maybe not. But it didn't change anything between us, and I knew that was the case. It was time to leave him, to leave my profession, to leave the country and return to England.

I'd earned sufficient money to last me a life time and all I wanted now was to prepare for and then adapt to my new life as a mother.

"Thank you, Mr. President," I said instead, refastening my dress and turning away to retrieve my coat. "Thank you for everything."

THE END